


Drunk Walk Home

by Sedona_Eats_Ortolans



Series: Mitski Works [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst to Fluff, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post Fall, Post S3, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:32:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedona_Eats_Ortolans/pseuds/Sedona_Eats_Ortolans
Summary: (post a3) Will comes home one night to find an intruder has broken in and injured Hannibal. He goes as far as necessary to protect his beloved. Based on the song “Drunk Walk Home” by Mitski.
Relationships: hannibal x will, hannibal/lecter, hannigram
Series: Mitski Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189304
Kudos: 28





	Drunk Walk Home

It had been a long day, and the sun had long ago set. It had been quite beautiful, actually- golden rays smashed across a canvas spotted with clouds like pieces of a mirror. Will would’ve liked to have watched it with Hannibal. It wasn’t the end of the world- they’d have all of the sunsets and sunrises the sky had left to give.   
As it was, Will had been out all day following after a particular politician, Elian Perez. He was a potential next victim, but per Hannibal and Will’s agreement neither of them would make a move until they discussed, agreed, and planned. Their time in Cuba had so far been quiet in a kind of loving way. The adoration that whispers instead of shouts.  
Will was walking down the clustered cobblestone roads leading up to their villa by the sea. The night was warm, welcoming, and bright in its own way- the many clouds brightened the light of the moon and cast a milky glow over their world. Will was too restless to admire the stars. All he wanted was to fall into Hannibal’s arms and talk to him. What was his day like, what did he see. He wanted to know everything Hannibal felt as an extension of his own existence. It was mutual, always.   
Their quaint (as Hannibal called it) mansion (as Will called it) came into view, and Will walked up to the side entrance, the one they always used. The moment he twisted the door handle, he knew something was wrong. It was one of those things you can’t explain until afterwards- the brief epiphany of knowing, without understanding. Will knew, though not exactly why, something was wrong. His hesitation lasted shorter than a second before he decidedly pushed open the door.  
Immediately, he knew he had been right. It was a sickening feeling, like his lungs were collapsing in on one another.  
Blood. Just a few specks of crimson on the floor. That was all it took for Will’s cautious steps to turn into purposeful (panicked) strides inside. He turned, walking into the kitchen, mouth open to call out for him until-  
Hannibal.  
Oh.  
Hannibal, crumpled in the corner of the kitchen, face covered in fresh bruises and fresh blood, his breaths just barely showing in the rise and fall of his chest.  
“Hannibal.” Will was on his knees by Hannibal’s side in seconds, his hands cradling the sides of his lover’s face. The only small relief was he didn’t have any obvious gushing wounds besides a rather nasty nose bleed. “Oh my god. Who did this to you?” Hannibal’s hand was placed over his. His knuckles were split. He was bloody. He was hurt. Someone had hurt him.   
“Upstairs. I’ll be okay, mylimasis. Go.” Hannibal offered a small smile. Will curved his hand around his jawline, kissing him on the forehead. They both knew what he was going to do. He didn’t know who he would find or what weapons they would have, but it didn’t matter. One look at Hannibal’s blood and he had every bit of rage he needed. He could wear it like the only armor he’d ever need. He was the only one that deserved Hannibal’s pain; he was the only one that deserved to inflict it.   
“I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Will said, his touch lingering until he finally stood and made his way for the stairs.   
When they’d first moved into the house, they’d spent a great deal of time finding hiding places for weapons. One of their less elegant choices had been a baseball bat slotted between a bookshelf in the living room and a wall. Will took it in his hands for a small moment, frozen in the feeling of anticipation before euphoria- waiting before the hunt. Then he heard footsteps behind him, and he turned smiling. He was ready to play.  
The man was tall, dark hair, glowering eyes, muscular. Will felt a spark of pride seeing the dried blood trailing down his temple and the definite crookedness of his nose. Will could see how he might be intimidating, but in this moment, he only felt the smooth curve of the baseball bat handle in his grip, and the cool chill of definite rage pulsing in his veins. He wanted this man to die. It was as simple as that, as simple as Hannibal lying on the kitchen floor covered in blood.  
“Are you the boyfriend?” He snickered, his eyes going from Will to the bat with a kind of ‘oh really, pretty boy?’ look.  
“Yeah I am, who the fuck are you.” Will took a step forward, and didn’t stop. The man tried taking steps back, reaching for something on his belt, but it was far too late for him. Will swung, once, and hit the man in the head soundly. He fell to the ground, hands clutching at his head. He tried crawling away. Will let him for a few moments, watching him groan and try to drag himself upright on the stairs.   
Once he was done watching him struggle, Will brought the bat down again and again, until he was just as unmoving as Hannibal had been left in the kitchen. The only sound coming from him was a quiet whimper- something that might have provoked mercy or hesitation if Will was someone else. If he had not already undergone his becoming. He saw motion in the corner of his eye, and turned his head to see Hannibal leaning in the doorway, watching him with a fire in his eyes. It was then he made up his mind, tossing the bat aside and letting it clatter to the floor.  
He stepped forward until he was towering over the broken man’s body, and leaned down to place his hands on either side of his head. With one final twist and snap of bone, his body went still for good. Will stood back up, facing a bruised but undeniably pleased Hannibal.  
“Do I need to come for the rescue from now on, princess?” Will quipped, but he was already pacing to Hannibal and wrapped his arms around him the second they reached each other.  
“He attacked me while I was making the bouillon.” Hannibal said, clearly horrified by such lack of conduct.  
“How shameful.” Will said with an eyeroll, taking Hannibal’s hand in his own to examine his severely bloodied knuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”


End file.
